


Hypothermia

by Jastiss



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dom Prom, F/M, Kinktober 2018, Oral Sex, Power Struggle, outdoor lovin, prompto got all the stamina, softcore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 06:03:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16528832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jastiss/pseuds/Jastiss
Summary: Prompto's drowning in himself after escaping Niflheim with Aranea.  Volatile emotions come to a head when he realizes he is also a man, and Aranea is a damn fine woman.  He goes for it, and surprises even the dragoon with his skills.





	Hypothermia

Even through the thick padding of his winter gear, Prompto is freezing.

 

It’s not the kind of cold that necessarily comes from the frigid air of Niflheim.  The cold that seeps from your own broken soul, the cold that no fire nor gear can warm.  Of course, the temperatures outside matching what’s in his bones surely doesn’t help the situation.

 

Aranea stares at him across the fire, intense gaze boring into him, lancing the wounds upon his psyche until the words spew forth.  Infection pours out, the dark goings on preventing him from seeing the truth; that his friends still want him around just as badly as he wants to stand by their sides.

 

His bemoaning seems to be too much for Aranea to endure, evidenced by her knocking him flat on his back to settle herself upon his stomach, shaking him to break through the fog of doom.  Even as deep in despair as he is, one volatile emotion begets another, and Prompto is but a man with a beautiful woman seated upon his person. Before his reeling brain has a chance to catch up, to  _ do something _ , she shoves herself upright with a scoff.

 

“I’m going after the new model in the morning,” she announces.  “You’re on your own from here, kid.”

 

She makes to leave, and Prompto’s sure he lost his chance, still lying on his back in shock.  

 

Aranea is halfway to the snowmobile when she hears him call out to her.  What the hell does the kid want now?

 

When she returns to the fire, he’s shuffling awkwardly, gaze downcast as he wrings his hands.  It’s almost enough to send her packing as she doesn’t have time for these games, but something stills her movements.  She leans over, squinting at him.

 

“What is it?” she demands.  “Out with it, sunshine boy.”

 

Everything happens in a flash.  Prompto’s on her in a flash, chilled lips crashing into hers with vigor, hands gripping her coat to drag her into his small, yet obviously powerful, frame.  There’s a temptation to give in, but Commodore Highwind does not simply hand over the reigns to anybody, especially a kid with an anxiety problem. She pushes him away, incredulity written plainly upon her face.

 

“Seriously?” is all she asks, finding there aren’t sufficient words to describe her thoughts.

 

Prompto doesn’t even manage to look sheepish.  He’s felt the thrill of her lips upon his and damnit, he’s determined to find a way to get more of that intoxicating feeling.

 

“No- no need for you to leave,” he suggests, cursing his stammer.  “You know what they say about avoiding hypothermia, and it is awful cold out there.”

 

Shit, Ignis’ corniness must be rubbing off on him.  Definitely not the smooth proposition he had been trying for.  Aranea stares in silence, an eyebrow arched, lips set in a hard line.  Anxiety starts to bloom in his gut, but he works hard to overcome while he waits for her answer.

 

When she realizes he’s being serious, all Aranea can do is laugh.  “Kid, I’m not sure you’re man enough to handle a real woman like me.  Won’t your hand get jealous?”

 

She’s cruel, but he sees it, the subtle shift in her demeanor that indicates interest.  At least, he hopes that’s what it is, because if it isn’t, he’s about to make a serious ass of himself and would have to starve and die alone in the wilderness out of shame.  She could also kill him. He takes measured steps in her direction, slow enough to give her time to back away, but deliberate enough to give away his intentions. Back in her space, he reaches out to her once more, but instead of the tender touches Aranea expects, he grips her ponytail in a flash and wrenches her head backwards to access the smooth column of her ivory throat.

 

Her startled gasp is music to his ears, her lack of protest sends a jolt straight to his cock.  

 

“I think she’ll survive,” he murmurs against her skin, nipping his way toward her collarbone, hidden beneath her heavy leathers.  “This is coming off. All of it, actually.”

 

“If you think I’m about to give up control to you, sunshine, you’re dead wrong,” she grunts in response, backing him into the cave wall with a thud.  Her hand teasing along his clothed length is heaven, and momentarily distracts him. 

 

Regaining his senses is hard, but he manages somehow, flipping her quickly to fly through her buttons with shaking hands.  “I don’t think I gave you the option.”

 

Thank the Six his voice is coming out steadier than it is in his head.  The anxiety claws at him, trying to throw off his groove, but he grits his teeth and puts more focus into his task.

 

A flurry of movement and Aranea finds herself forced to her hands and knees by a kid far stronger than he lets on, assaulting her sex with surprisingly skilled fingers and tongue.  She supposes just this once, she can sit back and have the burden of command lifted from her, dropping to her elbows upon Prompto’s gear when the sensation becomes too much. It doesn’t take too long to have her shattering around his nimble fingers.  

 

“Don’t you want me to return the favor, sunshine?” she asks, breath panting out in quick puffs in the cool air.  Her sly gaze meets his stern expression over the curve of her shoulder.

 

“Maybe later,” Prompto grinds out.  “I’m on a mission.”

 

That much is clear, when he lines himself up and slides in easily, the slick of her release making it all too easy.  A full body shudder takes over; surprised again is she at his impressive length and hell, the  _ girth. _  His hand once again fists in her hair, pulling her back like a drawn bow, ready to snap forth.

 

He pulls a handful of orgasms from her, taking her in position after position, eventually taking her upon her side, leg hiked over his shoulder as he works her with fervor.  She’s exhausted, but higher and calmer than she’s been in ages, deciding to let him work his pent up emotion out. Even so, his stamina is never-ending, and eventually, Aranea taps out.  He growls his assent and after a few thrusts more, pulls out to spend himself upon her stomach.

 

They lay side by side, panting, the crackle of the fire the only other sound in the dead of night.

 

“Gotta hand it to ya, kid,” Aranea finally says, “I didn’t expect any of that.  Thought you’d go all of a few minutes and be spent.”

 

Prompto laughs long and loud at that, rolling over on his side to give her a self-satisfied smirk.  Aranea simply shakes her head with a scoff, shoving him harmlessly out of the way that she could redress before the cold seeped in.


End file.
